Incommunicado
by Your Angel of Music
Summary: Syed makes a Skype conversation between Christian and his mother very difficult indeed. Ladies and gentlemen – this is exhibitionism for the technological age.


**Title: **Incommunicado**  
>Author: <strong>MercuryPheonix (Your Angel of Music)**  
>Fandom: <strong>EastEnders**  
>RatingWarnings: **M – sexual situations and language

**Summary: **Syed makes a Skype conversation between Christian and his mother very difficult indeed. Ladies and gentlemen – this is exhibitionism for the technological age

**A/N:** This was inspired by a discussion on WFCTGIO regarding a line in the Chryed Red Button Episodes (_Amira's Secret_). Christian suggests that they go to Florida, where Syed can 'meet [his] Mum..._properly_!". We thought this suggested that they've obviously spoken to Linda via a weblink since they've been together - which led to a discussion about possible fanfiction - which led to me deciding that this fiction need to be written. It's been a while since I put the idea forward, but it's finally finished. I hope you all enjoy!

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><p><strong>Incommunicado <strong>

_(In a state or condition in which one is unable or unwilling to communicate; in a manner in which communication with outsiders is not possible, for either voluntary or involuntary reason)_

x

The laptop landed on the table with a _thump_, the buzzing of booting mechanisms reverberating ominously through the wooden top.

"I've said sorry. What more do you want?"

Syed leant against the wall between the living area and then kitchen, his arms crossed across his chest as he regarded his fiancé critically.

"For you to mean it."

Christian skittered around the table, ceasing briefly in his hurried movements to fling his arms innocently in the air.

"I did mean it!"

The raised eyebrow that Syed sent his way resulted in an immediate backtrack.

"Okay," he conceded, his fingers drumming distractedly on the back of his chair. "So maybe I didn't mean it" – a victorious look hit him, making him bristle sharply – "but why should I mean it? I've got nothing to be ashamed of, Sy. Neither have you."

"Yeah, but," Syed took a step forward, his knotted arms loosening to his sides as he fixed Christian with an earnest gaze. "It was the _Minute Mart_, Christian. Couldn't you have kept your hands to yourself for a few minutes?"

"What can I say?" a leering grin stretched Christian's face. "You should take it as a compliment."

"You _know_ my parents shop there, Christian. It's the least we can do to keep the peace. I don't want to cause any more problems. I'm meant to be seeing my mum tomorrow. Now what do I do?"

Christian stopped; frozen halfway between standing and sitting, his head raising slowly to look carefully at Syed.

"You go," he lowered himself the rest of the way, his spine stiff against the back of the chair as he tapped at a few keys. "You've got nothing to be ashamed of."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," Christian's finger skidded across the touchpad, double-clicking a few times in rapid succession before bringing his hand up to graze against his stubble. He regarded Syed carefully, the gradually waning tightness on the face of his fiancé tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. His eyes flashed, his fingers rubbing almost suggestively across his chin (Syed would never be able to work out how he could make something like that suggestive).

"Anyway," he dropped his hand, folding them in front of him and leaning forward in his seat. "Sometimes a little exhibitionism can be a turn on."

Syed struggled to hold his serious expression, lips pursing tightly as tried to lock away the laugh that was threatening to explode from his throat. But the mischievous glint in Christian's eye seemed to grab hold of his face, forcing it into a smile as a _huff_ laughter burst from between his lips. His head dropped, shaking from side to his side as he fought to pull himself back together.

The cock-sure chuckle that resonated through the air made him look up; an exasperated glare shone from his eyes, fixing itself onto Christian's infuriatingly smug expression.

"I hate you."

"No you don't," another grin illuminated the air before Christian's attention turned back to the screen in front of him. "Now, are you gonna stand there sulking all evening, or are you going to be polite and come over here? My mum'll be so upset if she doesn't get the chance to gush over her future son-in-law."

There was a moment's silence as Syed seemed to consider Christian's offer – and then he stepped forward, the movement stretching Christian's face into an even bigger grin.

"I'm just putting the call through now, so pull up a chair," he waggled his eyebrows. "Or you can just sit on my lap – I'm sure she won't mind too much."

A mischievous, almost cunning look suddenly descended over Syed's features; it twitched at the corner of his mouth, shining forth from his eyes, like a beam of devilry fixing on Christian. The older man felt his smile falter, his brow knitting together into a worried frown.

"What…?

He was cut off as Syed dove forward, his head ducking down and his body tucking in as he disappeared beneath the table. The tabletop shook above Christian's knees, vibrating against him until the warmth of Syed's folded body seemed to curl upwards from his toes. A shiver tickled its way up Christian's spine as Syed's breath reverberated around the confined space; he felt hands sliding up his shins onto his knees, fingers pressing like fire through the denim of his jeans – it was like the material electrified the touch, acting as a barrier and a conductor at the same time. Christian's eyes began to slide shut as the hands moved further up, caressing around the backs of his knees before splaying teasingly slowly against his thighs…

"_Christian!"_

His eyes flew open.

The shrill, familiar voice echoed through the tinny speakers, tugging him out of his momentary trance – he struggled to pull himself together, willing back the flush he could feel creeping onto his cheeks as he focused on the slightly grainy image on the screen.

"Mum," he coughed, nudging Syed pointedly with his knee – to no avail. "What're you…" – the fingers carried on their slow journey, teasing ever closer – "…I mean, how're you…" – thumbs stroked his inner thighs, millimetres away from his crotch – "…I mean…um…"

"_Is there something wrong?_" the brow on the screen furrowed, the face leaning ridiculously close to the camera; as if she could somehow reach through the screen to examine the situation further. "_You seem…distracted. Are you sure you're feeling alright?_"

The pads of Syed's thumbs found their target, pressing gently against the fly of his jeans. Something in Christian exploded.

"Yes!"

"_Okay!_" the face retreated from the screen hurriedly, flopping backwards so that Christian could see the entirety of her face. "_There really is no need to shout, Christian. I'd have thought that, with that nice young man around, you'd have learnt to control that excitable streak. Where is he anyway? I thought you said he'd be there._"

Syed pressed down with more force, building the pressure gently against Christian's throbbing flesh. It took all of Christian's control not to let out a grunt, his fists clenching either side of the laptop, just out of his mother's range of sight. Somehow, he managed to pry his gritted teeth open, forcing his face into what he hoped was a regretful expression.

"Syed couldn't be here," he jerked minutely as a warm breath ghosted across the material of his jeans, lips pressing into the denim and exhaling deeply through into the skin beneath. "Something…something came up."

There was a huff against his crotch as Syed laughed silently; the deep breaths transforming into short, sharp bursts of toasty air that reverberated across his nerve-endings.

"_That's a shame. He's such a nice boy._"

Syed's thumbs loosened their pressure, pulling gently away as his long fingers skittered forward to unbutton Christian's jeans. The cold air, mingled with fiery breath, hit his flesh, forcing tiny shivers like pinpricks across his skin – the effort of keeping his body neutral seemed to somehow heighten the sensations down below; each huff of air, each chilly draft, each gentle caress of fingertips, was multiplied until Christian could feel an incessant tugging at the roots of his composure.

"Nice isn't the word I'd have used," he muttered, the effort of keeping his face in an impartial smile making his jaw ache. His mother gave him a 'look', her brow furrowing whilst her eyes seemed to pierce him in a strange concoction of intrigue and disapproval.

"_Have you two had an argument?" _

Christian almost let a hysterical laugh burst from his lungs - but he held it back, disguising it as a harsh, guttural cough.

"No, no argument," Syed tugged the jeans down his legs, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses against the sides of his knees before working his way back up. "In fact, I'd say we're pretty much on the same…_hhnnngggh_…"

Syed's tongue swiped across his flesh, curling around and drawing – almost coaxing – it in between his dampened lips. Christian pushed his fists into the table, the veins popping from the backs of his knuckles as his grip on reality threatened to explode into a million tiny shards. Damp heated curled around him, like fireworks being set off on the surface of his skin – Christian wanted to lean back, to close his eyes, to loosen his lips and just let himself drown in the sensations ricocheting through every inch of him.

"_Are you okay, Christian?_" the figure leant forward again; Christian felt himself tense, an irrational fear - that she would somehow be able to see under the table - creeping up on him. "_You sound a bit nasal. Are you sure you're feeling alright?_"

Christian coughed again, uncurling one of his fists to cover his mouth as he did so – it released _some_ of the pressure that had settled on him, freeing tiny segments of the groan that was pushing down on his throat.

"I'm fine, Mum," - _apart from the fact that he's started doing that thing with his tongue…oh god, where did he learn that?..uh...don't care…more…morenowplease _– "I think I've picked up a bit of a cold, it's fine."

She made a _harrumph _-ing noise in the back of her throat, peering at him through the hazy image.

"_I blame your job, personally – don't get me wrong, I'm happy that you're finally putting your energies into some kind of focus – I always knew you had it in you to be a success, you know? – but if you will mix with all these people you barely know, you're bound to catch something._"

Syed pulled back slightly, his stubble grazing against the skin of Christian's inner thighs – direct contrast to the softness of the tongue circling his cock, the dampness combining with the rasp against nearby skin to create an near-implosion in Christian's skull.

"Blame…Syed…" he forced out, his teeth gritting into a painful grimace as he uncurled his fingers and dug his nails into the tabletop. "I'm sure it came from him…one his clients…or something…definitely his fault."

"_Oh, Christian – you never take responsibility for yourself._"

"Trust…me…this is…_all_...his doing."

"_Yes, well, you don't know that_," the sigh crackled through the speakers, drowning out the scratching of Christian's breath across his throat. "_I think he's good for you, that boy. I really do. He's a lovely young man and you're very lucky to have him, don't you forget that._"

The rapid movements against his flesh seemed to slow as the words filtered through the wood; hands began to draw soft circles on his thighs, the pads of his fingers tap-dancing along his skin as if communicating through their own unique Morse Code. Christian could feel the eyes burning up at him through the tabletop – all he wanted to do was push back and look into those eyes, to catch that gaze and hold it as if his life depended on it.

But he couldn't.

Instead, he snaked his hand downwards – carefully moving out of the range of the camera – to settle in Syed's hair, combing through the strands to rest gently against his scalp.

"I know, Mum," the tightening of fingers on his thigh told him that Syed _knew_ he wasn't just addressing his mother. "I haven't. I never will."

"_I always said you had so much love to give – and now you've find the right person to give it to, and I'm so happy. I'm so happy for you, Christian. I never thought I'd say this, but I reckon you might well have found your soul-mate in that one." _

Syed pulled back briefly, pressing a quick kiss against each of Christian's thighs before resuming the gentle manipulation of his flesh. Christian closed his eyes for a single moment, cupping the back of Syed's neck beneath his fingers – communicating ever single ounce of the adoration that was swimming in his veins through his fingertips.

"I know I have, Mum; I love him," he smiled – it was a genuine smile, which lasted all of five seconds before Syed slid his hands from his thigh to his cock, swiftly combining fingers, tongue and lips to chase away the blissed-out serenity that had briefly relaxed Christian's body. Christian struggled not to buck upwards against the touch, utilising every ounce of his energy not to drop his head back against the back of the chair.

"_Christian?_"

"Wha…what?" he struggled to keep his eyes open, his fingers grasping at Syed's hair as if he were dangling over a precipice and those strands were the only rope keeping him from falling. "I…sorry…I just…"

"_I think you should have a lie down, love – wouldn't be surprised if that cold is actually the onset of flu,_" she clucked, knocking her tongue against the back of her teeth as she considered him. "_Get that boy of yours to look after you. I'm sure he's very good at that sort of thing_."

Christian coughed – only this time, it barely disguised the grunt that lurked behind it.

"I'm sure he'll be…" – Christian could feel the pressure building as Syed picked up his pace, combining every single method at his disposable to push him as close to orgasm as possible without sending him over the edge – "…very _attentive_."

"_You're too lucky for your own good,_" the figure on the screen let out one last sigh before leaning back, opening up the screen. "_Right then, Christian, off to bed with you. Drink plenty of water. Put your feet up. Get back to me when you're feeling better._"

The effort of holding back was making Christian's whole body tingle; he managed to stretch his face into one last smile, nodding in what he hoped was a decisive fashion.

"Will do, Mum. Bye."

"_Look after yourself_."

"Will _do_, Mum. _Bye_."

…_…..._

"_Goodbye, Christian_."

The moment the screen went blank, Christian let his head fall back with a _thunk_ - his hips jerked upwards…his fingers curled in Syed's hair…his eyes squeezed shut…and a long, low groan exploded from his throat as he released every last ounce of the pressure that had been building within his body.

Syed continued to manipulate him through his orgasm, his tongue working at a languid pace against Christian's flesh as his hips bucked in a messy, fragmented fashion. Endorphins rushed through Christian's brain like a tidal wave, drowning all else in their path until his body felt drained of _everything_.

He sank back, boneless, in the chair as Syed finally let him go; crawling up between Christian's legs until he was straddling his hips, balancing himself on the edges of the chair and cupping Christian's face between his palms. A contented smirk danced across his features, his lips hovering just inches away from Christian's slack mouth.

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it, Clarkey."

Christian opened his eyes slowly, the light reflecting from Syed's face filtering beatifically between the cracks as he came to his senses.

Something in his head seemed to switch on. He leant forward languorously, closing the distance between them to catch Syed's lips in a messy kiss. It was an open-mouthed mess of teeth and tongues as they lost themselves, all sense of decorum and coordination gone in favour of touch and taste and _them_. Christian remained leant back against the chair as Syed pressed forward insistently; only moving to slide one hand under Syed's shirt, fingers teasing his spine as the other cut a gentle path through his hair.

Eventually they broke apart for air, Syed resting his forehead tenderly against his fiancé's. Christian found himself enclosed on three sides; one hand on each of his cheeks, whilst Syed pressed insistently against his forehead. It was a prison he could have happily languished in forever.

Syed smiled - the movement echoed through his skin, feeding through their closeness and into Christian's flesh.

"Are you sorry now?"

Christian tightened his grip, pulling Syed closer until it was difficult to ascertain where one ended the other began.

"Not in the _slightest_."

**Fin**

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><p><em>It took me a lot longer than I expected, but here it is. A huge thanks to everyone over at WFCTGIO for planting the seed of this idea in the first place, and for then being so supportive durig the writing of it. Thank you to everyone for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have any comments, I'd love to hear them. If not, then keep lurking lurkers! <em>


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